


I Am

by Shipsterella



Series: Lessons in Love And Leaving [4]
Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Emotional, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Feels, Feels punch, Intimacy, Light BDSM, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Praise Kink, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-08
Updated: 2017-11-08
Packaged: 2019-01-31 01:36:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12665589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shipsterella/pseuds/Shipsterella
Summary: Andy makes plans to try to tackle some of Miranda's insecurities in a new way to lay the groundwork for a healthier marriage than Miranda has become accustomed to because she wants theirs to be different, stronger. This one is going to stick. Will she be able to convince Miranda?As a quick and dirty summary to set the scene for those of you who are jumping right in without reading LiLaL first, Miranda freaked the fudge out because of a misunderstanding during a fight and proposed.(Also, Desperation sets the tone and provides insight into some of the "rules" they follow in the bedroom.)This installment is set roughly 2 weeks after LiLaL but the timeline isn't super pertinent. Andy's POV.TRIGGER WARNING FOR FEELS - I'm not even joking.





	I Am

**Author's Note:**

> After reading I Have Confidence (In Confidence Alone) by Tigerkid14, this concept wouldn't leave me alone. I hope I do it justice.

I'm nervous about tonight. This is the first weekend the girls are spending at their Dad's since Miranda proposed. Miranda and I have made plans to spend it together in celebration but she doesn't know the half of my plans for her. Dinner is ready, the table is set intimately for two, and she should be home from work at any moment. We've reached a new level of trust and understanding in our relationship because of that terrible misunderstanding but the intensity of her fear and insecurity was revealed to me and I've been planning a way to try to break through and reassure her since that day. I want us to start our lives together, _together_ , inseparable. Miranda has to know that leaving is not an option for me. I want her to see herself the way I see her. I just don't know how she will react.

I hear the front door open and take a huge breath to try to settle my nerves. "In the kitchen!" I call out and she comes to greet me with a kiss. We linger. "Mmm, hello, sweetheart." Another quick peck.

"Dinner smells delicious, darling."

I hand her a wine glass filled with her preferred Pellegrino instead of our usual wine and we move to the dinner table. I want our heads to be clear for the evening ahead. I don't provide an explanation but she doesn't question it. We settle at the table and discuss our days while enjoying our light meal as I wait for an opening to propose what I hope will happen tonight.

I'm trying not to spook her in spite of my nerves so at my first chance, I pull out several scarves from my pocket. The gleam in Miranda's eye temporarily distracts me. This wouldn't be the first time we've used them in the bedroom and after the day she's had at work, dealing with incompetence and Irv, I can tell she's more than open to the idea of giving up control for a while.

"Miranda," I start, hoping I'm conveying more confidence than I feel, "there's something I would like to try tonight, something new."

"Okay, darling. What is it?" She purrs.

The purring helps. She knows what her voice does to me. God help me when she says my name in that same tone.

"Well, that's part of it. It's kind of a... surprise. I'm hoping you'll let me lead tonight and trust me."

She looks intrigued but hesitant, probably because of my hesitance. Not being in control is one thing but not knowing what will happen while not being in control is another.

"I won't let any harm come to you but I really want to try this with you. Will you trust me?"

"Yes, darling. Of course I trust you." I grab her hand and she squeezes mine as I let out a small sigh of relief.

We put dinner away and head to the bedroom. There is a paddle and a riding crop on the bed. Seeing this, Miranda looks back at me and smiles. We embrace, whispering "I love you's" before we each start getting ready. She removes her clothing as I reveal my outfit for the night, a black corset and panty set that embodies power.

She silently waits on her knees on the floor next to the bed, arms behind her back, head down. I'm struck by the level of trust and love and beauty she's exuding, and grateful beyond words she's allowing me to experience this with her. I almost get swept up by the intensity of it all but I manage to catch myself before I lose control of my emotions and ruin my own plan. If all goes well, this will be an emotional night but I can't lose control of mine.

"Make your choice, love. It's the only privilege you'll get without earning it tonight." We slip into our roles as soon as we're dressed (or not dressed) for them, as usual. I won't use any derogatory pet names tonight that could potentially - even subconsciously - threaten my goal.

She chooses the paddle, as I knew she would, and I put the crop away.

"Excellent choice, my love. I want you at the foot of the bed, bending over it, arms straight out to each side."

She complies and I use a scarf to tie each of her hands to a bedpost. The last scarf covers her eyes, hopefully to ease the intensity of her vulnerability and make her feel a little more secure with what we're about to do. I steal a quick kiss after tying it.

"Alright, love, as I mentioned, we're going to be doing something new tonight. I don't want to have to use this paddle tonight. Are you going to be my good girl and not make me use it?"

"Yes, ma'am." She replies.

"Good girl." I rub it along her lower back and over the swell of her right cheek.

She doesn't move but in her anticipation, I can hear her breath change, almost imperceptibly.

"You're being so still and so good for me. I'm so proud of you. You must be wondering what I have planned for you tonight, especially since I mentioned I don't want to use this paddle."

Silence. I keep teasing her with the paddle as I talk.

"You remember the day you proposed. We had that horrible misunderstanding. I won't rehash the details but I must say, I was extremely disappointed to discover you still think I could leave you."

"Andrea, I-"

*smack*

"Did I give you permission to speak? You interrupted me."

"I'm sorry. It won't happen again, ma'am."

I rub the reddened area soothingly with my hand before continuing.

"I don't regret that day. I'm thrilled that you proposed and I can't wait to be your wife. But I need you to understand our relationship won't be like your previous marriages."

Silence. I start teasing with the paddle again.

"I want you to repeat after me. I am beautiful."

"You are beautiful." She responds cheekily, earning another swat.

"Repeat it verbatim, Priestly. I am beautiful."

"I am beautiful." She repeats.

"My beauty does not come from the clothing I wear."

"Andrea, really-"

*smack*

She's uncomfortable with these affirmations.

"That's the third time I've had to use the paddle. I'm disappointed. You're not being a very good girl, love. Repeat it."

"My beauty does not come from the clothing I wear." She repeats in monotone, clearly just humoring me to get this over with.

"This time like you mean it: My beauty does not come from the makeup I wear."

"My beauty does not come from the makeup I wear." She repeats begrudgingly.

"Better. A little louder this time. My beauty does not come from how I style my hair."

I can hear the eyeroll this time and remind her of the paddle by gently stroking it along her cheeks in warning.

She gets the message and I hear a clear "My beauty does not come from how I style my hair."

"Good girl." I purr and reassuringly stroke her cheeks with my hand. "My beauty comes from within."

"My beauty comes from within."

"That was perfect." I wait a beat before we start the next topic.

"Alright love, repeat after me. I am a powerful woman."

She scoffs but I let it slide this time.

"I am a powerful woman."

"My power does not come from my professional success."

She hesitates and I start stroking her with the paddle again.

"My power does not come from my professional success." She repeats.

"I am successful because I am a powerful woman."

"I am successful because I am a powerful woman."

"My power comes from within."

"My power comes from within." She's quieter now, not in rebellion but as if she's unsure of the words. I won't punish her. Her lack of confidence is the reason this is necessary. I'm no longer using the paddle as a reminder nor my hand to sooth. I continue.

"I am a strong woman."

"I am a strong woman." She repeats.

"My strength does not come from a lack of feeling."

She exhales heavily. 

"My strength does not come from a lack of feeling."

"I am a strong woman because of my ability to feel."

She takes another deep breath.

"I am a strong woman because of my ability to feel."

"My strength comes from my love for my girls."

Her breath hitches and I rub her lower back soothingly with my hand, trying to give her strength.

"My strength comes from my love for my girls." She repeats shakily.

"My strength comes from within."

"My strength comes from within."

"Miranda?" I break character and lean down to her ear as I rub her back. "You're okay. You're doing so well. I'm going to take off your blindfold and untie your hands. We're not done yet, though, okay?"

She nods but doesn't say anything.

I untie the knots and lead her to sit with me on the bed, where I gather her into my arms and pull her close for the next round of affirmations. I notice her eyes are slightly glassy before she tucks her head into my neck.

"Ready to repeat after me?" I ask with more enthusiasm than I feel. This is harder for me than I thought it would be. I wipe an errant tear from my eye before she can answer.

"Okay." She whispers.

"That's my good girl." I hug her tightly. "I am not my failures."

She takes a steadying breath.

"I am not my failures."

"I am not my fears."

"I am not my fears."

"I am capable."

"I am capable." Her voice wavers.

"I am confident."

"I am confident."

"I am enough."

"I am enough." Her voice cracks and I feel dampness on my neck. I hug her tightly and give her a moment to catch her breath. To give me a moment to regain my voice, too.

"I am worthy."

"I am worthy." She says, barely audible.

"I am worthy." I say again, willing her to believe it.

"I am worthy." She repeats, still quietly.

"I am worthy." I repeat again, begging her to believe it this time.

"I am worthy." She says with a little strength behind it.

"I am worthy of respect."

"I am worthy of respect."

"I am worthy of happiness."

"I am worthy of happiness."

"I am worthy of love."

She pauses. I wait.

"I am worthy of love." She repeats softly.

"I am worthy of love." I repeat since that one was a bit of a struggle.

"I am worthy of love."

"I will always be loved."

She chokes out a sob. I hold her tightly and repeat it emphatically. "I will _always_ be loved."

I start rocking her, rubbing her arm, her back, anything I can reach to sooth her. These words have to reach her.

"I will always be loved." She whispers.

"I will never be left again."

She's crying in earnest now. We're still rocking. She has to believe these words. "I will never be left again." I repeat.

"I will never be left again." She chokes out. I wipe another tear from my face and try not to completely lose control. We're almost done.

"I will never be alone."

She sobs and I wait, rocking, soothing, willing her to believe it, to believe in us.

"I will never be alone."

I have no idea how long we sit, holding each other. She eventually gains her composure and lifts her head from my neck. I wipe her tears with one of the scarves and she searches my eyes for something. I'm still holding her closely. I'm not letting her go. She quietly says "thank you" and I bring her chin up to gently kiss her.

"What are you?" I ask, holding her chin, looking into her eyes.

"I am beautiful." She replies with a shy smile.

"Good girl. What are you?"

"I am strong."

"The strongest." That earns me a bigger smile. "What else are you?"

"I am worthy."

"Yes. Worthy of everything, love. What are you?"

"Yours."

"That's right my love. Forever."

**Author's Note:**

> Holy shit.


End file.
